Kyouya and Emma
by Cucumber
Summary: Instead of Haruhi in the famous Episode 8, it's a girl who's not quite as innocent. Not really explict.


A rewrite of episode 8.

Emma is a half-American, half-Japanese teen girl that Haruhi tried to save from getting raped on the beach and Tamaki ended up saving them both. Emma wanted to take Tamaki and the rest of the host club members out to dinner as thanks, but they insisted on her coming back to the beach house since they had seafood to spare. Emma went to her hotel room, changed, then bought a small but incredibly detailed netsuke figurine as a present for Tamaki. She gave it to him at dinner and everyone admired it. She sat next to Tamaki and made sparkling conversation with him, but throughout dinner she only had eyes for Kyouya.

Unfortunately, Emma must have gotten an oyster that wasn't quite fresh because toward the end of dinner she started feeling funny. As gracefully as she could she excused herself from the table and made her way to the nearest bathroom that a maid pointed out to her. When she was gone the host club members expressed regret over Emma's condition but they weren't unduly concerned. They ate dessert without her, then dispersed to their respective rooms. It had a long day and everyone was tired.

Emma spent quite a bit of time in the bathroom, but it didn't seem to be a bad case of food poisoning and soon she was feeling hungry again. She went out back to the dining room and to her chagrin everyone had gone. However, they had thoughtfully left a slice of cake at her place at the table along with a note saying that there were plenty of bedrooms and she was free to spend the night if she liked. If not, the chauffeur could take her back to her hotel room.

As she ate her cake, Emma deliberated. She felt a little like she had imposed enough upon these lovely fellows and didn't want to take advantage of their hospitality. However, she had come alone to the shore and she didn't quite feel like going back "home" to a lonely hotel room. She decided to stay the night, but leave before breakfast and certainly not ask any of the staff to drive her anywhere.

Speaking of the staff, they seemed to have disappeared too. When Emma finished her cake she took it to the kitchen and washed the plate and fork. She had to open a lot of drawers and cabinets to figure out where they belonged, but eventually she found the right place.

Since nobody was around, Emma didn't know where the bedrooms were. She headed down the hallway near the bathroom she had used and opened the next door she saw. Immediately she realized she should have knocked first, because sitting in a chair with his shirt off, reading a book, was Kyouya. If she had been more composed she might have been able to back away and close the door before Kyouya could even look up. But in her surprise, she let out an embarrassed little squeak.

That got Kyouya's attention. He looked up from his book and said in a completely bored tone, "Hmmm?"

"_Sumimasen_!" Emma said hastily, bowing low. "I didn't realize this was anyone's room!"

"That's quite all right," Kyouya said.

At first Emma could think of nothing more to say, but then she realized that this was her chance to get to know Kyouya. He'd been so tight-lipped at dinner.

"It was a lovely dinner," Emma said. "I only hope I'll be able to express my gratitude to Tamaki-san for everything he's done for me today. The netsuke seems like such a small, poor token of the true depth of my appreciation."

"Hmmm," Kyouya said again, with only the slightest bit more interest. He closed his book and put it on the small table next to his chair. Then he took off his glasses and laid them next to his book. He got up from his chair and walked over to Emma.

Emma figured that he was going to usher her out of his room and into an empty bedroom. Clearly she had not made a good impression on him. She pressed her lips together in a conscious effort to keep herself from prattling on. That would only make her look foolish.

Kyouya flicked off the light. Even though the owner of the beach house was rich and could surely afford to leave the lights blazing even if nobody was home, it was wonderfully environmentally conscious for Kyouya to turn off the lights if he wasn't going to be in the room, Emma thought.

But Kyouya didn't show Emma the door. Instead, he turned to her, and said, "You could show your appreciation . . . with your body."

Before Emma could say anything, Kyouya grabbed her arm and threw her on the bed. He knelt over her, pinning her down.

"You accepted an invitation to dine in a private house with a group of young men. What did you expect would happen?" Kyouya said harshly.

Emma was trembling. She had found Kyouya awfully attractive and mysterious, but she hadn't expected this. And maybe that had been her naiveté. Now she realized she had made one mistake after another that day, assuming that just because this was an upscale beach area it meant that people were nice.

"I—I—" Emma stuttered. "I don't know. I can't do that."

She really couldn't. If Kyouya had made any attempt to seduce her or had even just asked politely if she wanted to go to bed with him, she might very well have said yes. But here he was asking her agree to her own rape. And he wasn't going to take her because he wanted her, but in order to satisfy some kind of sick power trip, to make her pay for all the trouble she'd brought into the host club's peaceful vacation.

"Why? Are you a virgin?" Kyouya asked. He still hadn't made any move to touch Emma.

Emma turned her head to the side and looked at the door that she had stepped through so innocently. "No," she said in a small voice.

"Boyfriend?" Kyouya said.

"No, it was last summer in America when I went to visit my grandparents," Emma answered honestly, then mentally kicked herself. Maybe if she said that she had a boyfriend Kyouya would back off. Damn, she had to think before she spoke. But it was so hard to get a handle on her thoughts when she didn't know if any minute Kyouya would grab her and rip her clothes off.

"I bet you're one!" she burst out, hoping that maybe if she went on the offensive it might put Kyouya off.

Instead, he chuckled. "I was considering going to college in America, so I went for a campus tour last summer. I met a girl there," he said. "I guess we have something in common."

Tears formed in the corners of Emma's eyes. Kyouya was not going to be put off no matter what she said. She was reduced to pleading. "_Onegai shimasu_, Otori-san. This isn't funny. Please let me go."

There was a pause, then Kyouya said, "Yeah, sure."

He moved off from on top of her and perched at the edge of the bed. Emma wanted desperately to jump up and run from the room but she found that she was still trembling. She didn't think her legs would hold her. She lay there clutching the bed sheets, letting the tears flow freely.

"What was this all about? Why did you do this to me?" she whimpered. "Why me?"

Kyouya didn't answer.

Now Emma started to get mad. "Dammit, answer me! You owe me that much!"

"_I_ owe _you_?" Kyouya said archly.

"I'm going to tell everybody about this. You're going to bring shame to your family," Emma threatened.

"It seems to me that it'll be a case of 'he-said/she-said.' Why would anyone believe a commoner's word over mine?"

Emma's resolve to find out the truth about why Kyouya had done this was withering. He was right. He hadn't raped her. In fact, outside of grabbing her arm, he hadn't even _touched_ her. She could spread the word that Kyouya wasn't a nice guy but it would be nothing more than rumors in the wind and who knew how the Otori family might retaliate against her.

"Fine, then just get out and leave me in peace," Emma said tiredly.

"This is my room," Kyouya said.

"_Baka_!" Emma said. She wasn't entirely sure if she was referring to Kyouya . . . or herself.

She just couldn't let this go. She had to know what was going on in his head. How dare he refuse her. Turnabout was fair play, right? She grabbed Kyouya's arm and hauled him back onto the bed. She didn't just crouch above him, but ground her pelvis into his crotch. He was so hard. They both moaned with pleasure but Emma didn't lose sight of her endgame.

"I'm going to fuck you without a condom and then I'm going to tell everyone that you raped me. I might even get pregnant. That would be a disaster for you, wouldn't it?" Emma said. "Do you know how you can avoid that? By telling me why you did this to me."

Kyouya blinked. Emma could see the gears turning in his head.

"I did it because I'm a jerk. I'm not a good guy. It wasn't anything personal," he said finally.

The words came out so coolly that Emma could sense that they were a lie. There was more going on here that Kyouya wasn't going to give up so easily. But she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She was going to force him to tell her. And—

Her last thought brought her up short. This wasn't just turnabout, this was mind rape. Emma was trying to force Kyouya to give up something that he treasured. From having spent time in America she could see the difference between American boys and Japanese ones: Japanese boys kept their feelings a lot closer to the vest.

What she was doing now, was it wrong, sinking to his level, or was it fair, her right to know? Was she trying to break him as much as he had tried to break her?

This made Emma feel a little tender toward Kyouya. She thought about everything she knew about the situation. He wasn't a virgin, but he didn't seem to have a girlfriend. In fact, he didn't seem to have anybody. At dinner, he and Tamaki-san clearly had had camaraderie, but it appeared to lack closeness and even while Tamaki-san had spoken to her, he only had eyes for Haruhi-san. The Hiitachin twins had each others, and Honey-san had Mori-san.

It was a stupid thing that Kyouya had done, throwing her on the bed and assuming she'd just go along with whatever he wanted, but overall it was really just sad, wasn't it? If he coughed up the truth she could give him a pity fuck. After all, he was so hot and so good-looking it would be almost a waste to let him go.

Emma leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Tell me, Kyouya. Tell me everything." With one hand she stroked his cheek, with the other, his hardness. Then she nipped lightly at his ear with her teeth. She could feel every muscle in his body tensing.

She rose up slightly to look in Kyouya's eyes. She could see that he was wavering. "You can trust me," she whispered. "Anything that you tell me I will take with me to my grave."

With that, the defiance that Emma saw in Kyouya's eyes disappeared. He closed his eyes and started to speak, but Emma interrupted him. "Open your eyes. Look at me."

Reluctantly Kyouya opened his eyes. When he spoke, there was agony in his voice. "I feel like I always need to be in control. I can't say what I want or do what I want. I always have to live up my family name, to the standards my father has set. Sometimes it gets to be too much to keep inside."

Emma recognized the truth now that she heard it. She thought back over the evening and saw how it fit in with the conversation she'd been part of. Kyouya had seemed so mysterious to her because he obviously had hidden depths that he was keeping secret. This contrasted with Mori-san who talked even less than Kyouya did, but gave off an aura of such peace and contentment, like a Buddhist monk.

"Have you ever done this before to a girl?" Emma asked suspiciously.

"No, never," Kyouya said. "I swear, I—"

"Shhh," Emma interrupted, putting her finger on Kyouya's lips. "I understand completely." She didn't want to be Kyouya's confessor or his therapist. There was no need for him to say anymore.

An understanding passed between them. Kyouya took Emma's finger on his lips into his mouth and sucked on it. She rocked her pelvis slightly sending waves of pleasure through them both.

"Do you have a condom?" Emma asked.

Kyouya nodded.

"Go get it."


End file.
